Last night I fell of the wagon. Yep. Went to the pub had two pints, felt pissed but happy. Then went to the chip shop for a portion of chips, the price £1.40 cheaper than in Scotland. I asked for a squirt of ketchup, which cost nothing and in some places they charge for a small sachet. Then I found myself asking the young man how he was, I was so mellowed out. I found he worked a 12 hour day 6 days a week. I'm sure he is only getting minimum pay as well. He's not an English young man. Which is not to mean young English men would not work such hours, this is just an observation. Possibly an observation of the relative value and understanding of money. Hard to get, easy to spend, this is my own very saying and I've not heard anyone else say it, unless they know me and they haven't so it might not be catching on. Well, maybe after writing it here the world will know, but I'm sure they'll not attribute it to something they read. When things are remembered and it can't be recalled where they come from this is called cryptomnesia. So last night it was as if I didn't know where my appetite had come from, it was there and it needed to satisfied. So it was chips, drunken message phone calls left on answer phones, home, an Eccles cake, and half a packet of shortbread biscuits. Damn. All those fermentable carbs are now having their effect on me. I had been reasonably good all week as well. Oh, and I forgot to mention text messages sent to Sparkling. Who would of realised I was merry, because I'd mentioned popping into the pub for a couple. She's used to it now. At least I ring people up who know me or either know to ignore my call on a Friday night. Sometimes they do entertain a conversation and keep my company when I get on the train. Full of dour faced commuters. When you're happy and are met by a bunch of sad looking stressed people they are not open to funny or happy discussions. They should drink more often, and eat chips. The best cure in the world. You can quote me on it as well. Don't over drink, just a little to feel happy.
I've now discovered a piece of software which plays music for free. Except for the intermittent advert being played after every two or three songs. It's called Spotisfy. I thought I'd get round the adverts by turning down the volume on the Spotisfy control, but this didn't work. The advert just paused. Bloody thing, however it could not avoid the more direct root of reducing the volume on the headphones. Tough on the advertisers, shame, I'll cry in my sleep for them, not. There are so many ad blockers, cookie stoppers, pop up killers and virus hunting things about nowadays they do a pretty good job of keeping the nasties away. But even with these can't get away from the simple, manual off button. Followed by a IT user who has a obstinate, persistent attitude. Which is something gotten at the drop of a hat nowadays. If only I could drop the had of desire to scoff my face as quickly as getting annoyed at IT things. I don't know what it is, but I get this odd phase, where listening to music is the only thing which cures it. Not old music either. The hunger is for the most up to date music around. Pop music, the top 40, the best selling albums. When this happens I'm hunting down internet radio sites, Youtube any source at all to satisfy the chip-like hunger. Unlike chips this desire lasts longer, in the region of an hour or two. If only it was possible to remember every artists name and song after just one listening. Unlike having to work off the fat from too many chips which takes a bit longer than it does eating them. Reminder, look for an MP3 and radio thingy.
The hundreds of daily views from persons in the Netherlands has now stopped. It's a shame because I had considered taking up language lessons. In exchange there's been a slight increase in views from Spain. You'll not find any Paella recipies here Spanish persons, just chit chat about chips. Not fish and chips either, fish is expensive. Only on the odd occasion does the fish get a look in. Fish in batter, which must be a purely completely British invention, well I think so. Totally unhealthy so it has to be. A little like the deep fried Mars bar, fortunately there were none of them in the chip shop. OK here comes another advert, I've had enough of listening now, better go and exercise off some of those chips. Hell, the good things are always bad for you, as Sparkling once said to me, on this occasion she didn't call me fat boy but could of.
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